Who is Squashini?
by WaddleDeePlushie
Summary: A story that has a...rather peculiar plot and a different perspective of Squashini; critics are welcome!
1. Chapter 1

"_Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Please direct your attention to the most extravagant magician of all time!..._

_Jack!"_

A cacophony of incoherent shouts and claps were dispersed throughout the audience and a snare started to roll in preparation for the grand entrance. It was all for him..They walked out of their homes and drove whatever miles to see Jack, the Amazing Magician. He could imagine his name in advertisements, fans pleading for his autograph, beautiful women under his left and right arm, and endless bottles of whiskey and wine. Hey, it was good fortune…

So caught up in his exalting reverie, he didn't realize the snare had been rolling for over one minute. There were a few impatient groans and some suggested to just skip to the next act. After hearing collective displeasements, Jack finally snapped out of his torpor, fixed his bow tie, and hastily furnished all of his supplies. He was thinking this performance was going to be a disappointment to his contractor; not the best mentality for a show.. He then hassled from the back stage and stumbled unto the entrance with his trusty wheel cart carrying all his possessions.

He froze in embarrassment.

Sweat was beading on his forehead and the nervousness penetrating his weak stomach. He averted those feelings and concentrated on a more important objective; the audience. He had to please the audience before the inelegance could get any worse. A sigh egresses from his lips and he then finally opened his mouth to interrupt the thick silence filling the room.

"I apologize for the….inconvenience there. I hope you enjoy the tricks I have in store for you. I'll assure, you'll be amazed." The sly magician bowed and gave himself a confident grin before he stood straight, narcissist thoughts again flooding his ego.

A few women giggled in admiration before a distant shush can be heard. Just as he thought.. They couldn't resist. Jack docilely made his way to the wheel cart and pulled out his hat. He reveled the hat's underside for any incredulous viewers and slowly placed it above his head. Suddenly, he disappeared with a suction noise, letting the tiny hat swallow him. He stopped lowering it once he had reached his knees and let the hat fall to the ground exposing his feet. He tired to walk which was quite humorous to witness. The spectators gasped; some laughter, and began to clap in anticipation. He knew he was doing his job correctly..

"How does he do that?" one boy exclaimed to his mother.

"Who knows," she lamely stated. "He could at least be a demigod..he's like…I don't know..amazing!"

"Uh…what's a demigawd? And I don't think he's _that_ amazing.." the boy was getting too inquisitive, people glancing to their direction to oppose his statement. His mother hushed him and returned their attention to the show again.

Jack had already took the hat off that encased his body and placed it in the respective spot. He paused, bringing his hand under his chin, faking a contemplative expression on what other elusion he could woo his people into..

'_The Selbit Sawing trick is getting a bit tedious now..I should really do something different this time. I don't think the boss would notice much after all…since he never really pays attention.'_

He cleared his throat, "Now, I'll need a lovely female volunteer for this particular act.."

A clutter of feminine hands shot up from the dim rows of seats at the foot of the stage, all of them wanting to be the lucky woman to be an assistant for a short time.

"Alright, alright. Who's the lucky lady?...Ah, you there!"

"Um…haha, me?" a tall, lithe, redhead wearing a bright green sun dress stood up before him.

"Yes..you. Come up, I won't bite." He gave a gesture with his gloved hands.

The red headed woman squeed in delight, shuffled through a row of envious women in seats before she finally appeared on stage. She was obviously blushing under those freckles. Jack took humor out of this and smiled in return making her turn an ever darker shade of red. He then took her hand and patted it, just for comfort.

"Do you care to tell us your name, belle?"

"Uh…." She nervously accented, looking around profusely as if she had forgotten her own name. "..Sh-Sherry."

"Nice to meet you…Sherry. I'm going to tie these ropes on you, okay? I promise, you'll be safe during this process." He then flashed a smile, convincing her to obey.

Tying ropes around the assistant's wrists, ankles and neck, he guided for her to step into a wooden coffin. The ropes were threaded through small holes in the casket. He then tied the lose ropes into a tight grip to nearby poles then added another knot to the neck rope to prevent any strangling. He assumed the assistant was thus secured in a standing spread-eagle position inside. The bow was then lifted into a horizontal position. Excited to see everything going so well, he carefully grabbed three glass plates (two more from the previous performances) and slid it through the coffin, seemingly penetrating Sherry's body.

He heard no yelps, good.

Confident in his work, he began with the next procedure. The magician sawn through the centre of the case, dividing it in two. A few grunts came from inside, assuming that she may be slightly uncomfortable in the spread arrangement, he proceeded, finally cutting the third section.

….

At mid point, a painful thought penetrated his conscious. This saw felt slightly heavier then the one he recently used. He stood there searching for the tiny red label, indicating it was the right saw specifically the one with installed retractable blades. It wasn't there…. He couldn't move, he was still in shock dazed from the nightmarish actuality. The hustling and compensation for time made him grab the wrong saw…

"Damn, damn, damn…" he lowly muttered, gritting his teeth. He was having a panic attack; the unthinkable happened to a professional magician? It can't happen!

"Uh, okay um…just improvise.." he whispered warily to himself, his voice quivering after seeing tiny blood drops protruding and staining the ropes. He began to rotate the coffin, spinning the corpse inside continuously, trying to distract the audience.

"Oh, Sherry, Sherry..How do you feel inside that there coffin?"

No response. He glanced at the people and nervously laughed, making some people glare in suspicion. Most peered in tension and were eager to discover to what was to happen of Sherry. The crowd began to chant..He couldn't take it anymore. Pressing his lips together in annoyance, he was about to open the bow until an elderly woman sitting on the front row began to scream in horror.

"Th-there's blood dripping out of that box! I see it, right there on the floor!"

The aged woman pointed towards the crimson dots on the foot of the stage . A roar of screams, cries and pattering feet were all that was heard, as thousands of people began fleeing towards the main exit.

"He's a murderer, arrest him now before he gets away!"

"He's a torturous killer!"

"Call the police!"

He had to evacuate from the vicinity before the cops could enter the scene. He glances at his bloody mistake and writhed in disgust before he made a run for it. So many thoughts of disbelief spiraled through his intellect, he felt a tear roll down his cheek. His career was all over and a life in jail was his future. The adrenaline and fear gave him the ability to scurry two miles before finally returning home. He slammed the door as he intruded his house, heart beating dangerously rapid and lungs working and straining to fully oxidize his body. Knowing the police would be here anytime soon, he began to cognize a suicide. He figured there was no other job he could prefect in and living homeless would drive him deeper into depression. Without thinking, almost hypnotically he badgered through a nearby cabinet of alcoholic beverages and began making different concoctions of drinks to numb his emotions. After sometime of constant drinking, he was in a disarray of thought and fully inebriated, slightly bilious. He comply all his lagging thoughts to find a way to decease himself. Well…he was required to understand chemistry to make potion compounds for his shows..so that might be an easy way out.

He idlely began grabbing random labeled potions off the shelf, his zombified motions causing a few liquids to spill. It didn't matter at the time; all he wanted was to end it all. Pouring all different liquids onto a beaker, the mixture began to sizzle, indicating that it was highly toxic. He sniffed and wiped tears from his eyes, hearing sirens outside, before he took a few gulps of the combination. He chugged the potion down and sat there in defeat as he waited for the inevitable to happen.

…No effect…

No coughing, gagging or any symptoms of that matter. The liquids should have dissolved his esophagus or his stomach should have spontaneously combusted in a chemical reaction from the mixture of his acids. Thunderous knocks were heard, breaking his dreading moment. Previous emotions flooded in his mind, reminding him of the recent casualty of that female assistant. He lamely stood up and made his way to the door trying to maintain his composure. In just a few steps in, he felt a sudden throb in his chest. He stopped in his tracks, feeling a tingling sensation in the lower portion of his body and ligaments and a splitting migraine to accompany it. The ache was strong enough to knock him on his knees. The knocks protruding through the door were now sonic booms echoing in Jack's head, making the magician writhe in pain. He became feeble; he couldn't sustain this any longer and collapsed to the floor.

….

Wind had swept dominantly outside, guiding droplets of rain in different directions. Ominous cumulus nimbus hovered over the whole town making everything opaque and hard to see. Waking up and emerging in his own manor never felt so eerie as Jack had finally became conscious. His first attempt to lift his weight off the ground was extremely difficult, as he couldn't feel his appendages. He felt a difference in weight; almost like hw was levitating and his whole head felt much more heavy.

'_I'm still alive…preposterous, the potion should have finished me off..I must be in hell.' _

He veered around which would seem irrelevant in this dark room but somehow a faint yellow light could be seen anywhere he glanced, as if it was following his sight. Where is this light coming from? He went to scratch his head but all he felt was a slight swift of air?

"What on..earth..?" he questioned himself, flailing his arms to make a physical check but still the same result. He panicked and searched for the nearest light switch to redeem the conflict. Turning on the lights was normally a warming relief to Jack but once the lights were now on, he could clearly see that his place had been searched down. The tables were upside down, closet doors had been open, even his collection of bombs he had purposely hidden were reveled. Some were taken probably as defensive evidence.

Those idiots ruined my house!..

The fatigued but concerned magician further investigated the house and found his way to the bathroom; it was clean thank goodness. They still at least had some respect for my house.. Before he could say anything else, he staggered at the creature staring at him though the mirror. He froze in complete terror, realizing that was actually his refection. His head had changed color and had swollen up to the exact shape of….a pumpkin; his face was carved in perfectly symmetrical and had some kind of yellowish hue glowing in his pupils. His eye widened, cautiously observing himself. He still had his original attire on; the bow tie, hat and cape. But oddly enough, he _had_ no ligaments! He looked like a decorative Halloween ornament..This is so ridiculous! The potion did all this..?

He raised his now imaginary hand and placed it on his smooth orange check. He could still feel the cloth, so assumed all of his nerve endings were located in his Jack o' lantern head.

"Hmm..so I'm going to be a costume for the rest of my life." He retorted to himself. "consider myself lucky then.." he shimmied his lower body making his black and white cape turn side to side. He knew he had subsided his good looks and fortune for this, even sacrificed his strong fondness of the "ladies" but whatever, he'll just cope with it for now.. even though he was a monster..no not a monster..a thing..

Realizing he had been floating all that time, he now levitated solemnly over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He sighed in disappointment at the floating bottle he was holding before him. He knew he'll never get used to this. He thought it was a bit redundant that he was drinking alcohol when he almost drunk himself to death just the day before. He took his attention back to the cocktail and took a shot.

….

_BleheckeckeckeckECK!..._

_Ugh._

"Shoot…"

Cough, cough.

He put the beverage back in the fridge and slammed the compartment door. His second life was already starting to be miserable again. No ladies and no alcohol now? Jack was already fatigued enough and decided to take some time to relax and adjust to his new…..body. Who knows _what_ or _who_ he might encounter next..


	2. Chapter 2

Who is Squashini – Part Two, The Dream

There was a slight chill in the pending room where I was seated. This opaque but clearly distinguishable room seemed strikingly familiar to me as if I occurred in this same exact location before. It was all the same, unchanged. The walls had paradigms of white clouds with a jovial light blue stratosphere in the background in which the lighting of the room eerily contradicted the innocent scene of the walls. A short, sturdy blue table lies before me, supporting its contents on a mirrored surface: a tea pot and cup, labeled with tiny, intricate, patterns covered the rims and handles, and stacks of magazines all neatly assorted by categories. Even though most of the space occupied on the table prevented me from fully looking at myself, I could still take a gander of my now hollowed face and turned away in disgust and decided to avert my thoughts from it. It was a bit peculiar that the magazines were in order, considering that there were no windows or doors to been seen, preventing one, or possibly a victim to see the conditions of the outside world. Not even a venting system was generously placed, so it was too stuffy for personal comfort. There was no physical way that anyone could neatly place and organize this room without damaging anything in the process. I squirmed in my chair at the oddity of this place and the stuffy discomfort of the air. I knew this was one of my strange dreams that come frequently and I really don't know the purpose or what provokes my subconscious to create such pestering, meaningless dreams like this. I am a knowingly creative individual who yearns for innovativeness. Why would I be stuck with something so inevitably simple? Surely one who lacks imagination and complexity would have a dream so similar. I began to tap my index finger, as I've encountered many limited dreams like this before. I let my now yellow glimmering, hollow orifices of eyes wonder as I waited for this dream to pass until I finally found something different in this totally indifferent room.

It was an office desk but what was so uniquely different of it was its exceedingly smaller size than most standard desks. It still had the typical items of what would be on one: pens, a stapler, applications and miscellaneous information placed in neat stacks, but it was about the size of a large rodent, somewhat to like a rabbit. Though, it was just a simple minuscule desk, I had a bit of apprehensiveness approaching it. I rose from my seat, curious, and took my first imaginary step, and then it happened. A sudden blend of purple and yellow material twirled furiously around me, creating a vibrant blur, then tangled its prehensile material, similar to yarn around my whole body, swallowing me into a fuzzy vortex. I struggled, squirmed and finally screamed, as I was forced into this unexpected quagmire. My eyes shifted frantically scanning a new environment and my brain, trying to process a way to escape and simultaneously trying to process the images before me. The prehensile yarn proceeded to entangle itself and eventually started to fuse and imbed in the temples of my head. The sight of this was truly horrifying but I felt no sort of pain nor sensed any anything that was penetrating my orange skull. The hex or whatever it was started to take effect as my whole body was transforming into a soft fabric material. My clothes, however, did not change. Before I could process what was happening, the portal suddenly stopped, my eyes were blinded by a new radiant light and had to adjust to see a vast land that consisted of cloth, textiles, fabrics and yarn as though it were an animated tapestry and my now fabricated body was standing in front of some being who was slightly taller than I and was completely made out of yarn, with the exception of his nose, that was a button. He wore a large poncho and sombrero and held two incredibly large knitting needles with fiendish like expressions carved into each. Their eyes illuminated an ominous yellow and purple, coincidentally similar colors of the portal. Loose yarns were wrapped around them, resembling hands on the strange new creature.

I stood frightened until I noticed a strange assessor y that was located on his necklace. _**A sock**_. I stared curiously at the ridiculous thing he was wearing and wondered how someone could possibly walk about in that hideous attire. The _**thing **_peered back at me with its opalescent, sinister eyes, sensing my incredulous stare and twitched what it appears to be his mustache in agitation. A mature voice that belonged to a male with slight arrogance churned in.

"_Welcome, my guest. Why, I happen to notice that you now gawk at my new prized possession; incredibly rude, but flattering." _The creature levitated an inch closer.

I opened my rigid mouth to retort but was immediately interrupted when he again spoke but with a colorful chuckling introduction.

"_And yet, I already know what your questions are," _he teased humorously.

"_How did I get here? Where am I? Who are you? What is your purpose of bringing me here? And the most ridiculous of all: are you a god? __**HA!**__ Do you believe the ignorance of these people?" _ He twirled himself around, twirling his poncho with him making an elegant stance, with the exception of his….clothing.

"_Of course, I am a god." _He slurred his voice dangerously low but still contains its richness. His narcissistic nature annoyed me so and the questioning of my intelligence formed a heating boundary between us quickly. I admit, this seemingly omniscient figure was quite intimidating but I would not let him stop me from forming any responses. I scoffed at his disgustingly huge ego, narrowing my eyes at him with disdain.

"What makes you, an impetuous, grossly dressed fool like yourself, a god?" I spat my words at him. The levitating figure turned around immediately, as I predicted, with an expression so irate and full of contempt.

He swung one of his knitting utensils at me and pointed it into my direction. "_Fool, do you even know who you are dealing with? I could have your body decenagrate at this very moment and yet you unwisely choose to patronize me, the powerful Amibo Amore?"_

The thought of being desinagrated was horrifying but was completely unrealistic; still, I chose not to take any kind of risk dealing with this unpredictable wretch.

"Do you still care to tell me why you brought me here? Or are you too lost in your capacious, egotistical, shell to tell me?" there was a tiny tremble in my voice and I couldn't hide it.

A sinister cackle egresses from his lips. "Such_ a stubborn and narrow-minded soul, perfect for what I've assigned you for, you see, I have partaken a mission to finally prevail over Dreamland. My minions, sadly..." _he paused to cover his ghoulish smirk, pretending to choke up tears. He turned his back to me, falsely regaining his composure and continued.

"_didn't meet my expectations in battle, there were so many casualties all because of some…thing."_

I clinched my cape closer to my body, "What is this "thing" you speak of?" I questioned, at the same time, wondered if this "Amore" had some kind of psychological disorder.

Amibo turned to face me again, not saying a word, but was greeted with a stern, serious expression. "_Kirby." _He uttered, pressing his lips together in annoyance.

"Kirby? The name sounds rather simplistic to be..fiendish." I titled my head being a bit skeptical.

"_Simplistic? Heh, I believe you are wrong. In fact, he is the main problem, preventing me from taking over Dreamland. I want him assassinated." _

Personally, I felt like his private therapist jotting down information in my head analyzing and deciphering his own problems. "Yes and how do I pertain to this? This isn't my problem that I got myself into." I stated.

"_Oh, of course, it's not your predicament but I chose you and a few selected others to assist me, my dear fellow and as an incentive or- reward, I will return your natural body and undo the murder you caused all due to you negligence , 'Oh, the ever so Great Squashini failed indeed' ." _ He grinned, knowing that that very statement irked me.

I clenched my gloved fists, wanted to fight him but I knew I needed this opportunity to live a natural life again. I mentally restrained myself from retorting anything back at him, for I not know how much power he wields and the bitter realization of him manipulating me because of his specialized power and power in authority stung- and he knew it.

"How-"I started but was rudely interrupted again by that repulsive, mocking tone.

"_I don't think you would __**have**__ the capacity to understand, my strange pumpkin-headed magician. You see: I am the origin of Patchland, I am its creator and thus, have the omnipotent power of a god but long ago, I was somehow vanquished by a blue knight of the Fluff heritage, the Fluffs now rule the majority of Patchland and soon after, my powers and reign dwindled. I still obtain most of my power but with the other magical sock, my power will surely double! He must be killed at once so I can prevail once again."_

It was pretty obvious, this guy was insane. "What if I refuse to join your alliance?" expecting the worst results.

Amibo's grin grew wilder and this cynical behavior to every question I inquired was getting a bit foolish and irritating. He was trying my patience, this man. Before I could speak, he flew at an exhilarating speed. He was just inches from me when he placed the two sharp knitting utensils around my cranium, tugging lightly but somehow painfully at the traces of the yarn that bound me together.

"_**You die."**_


	3. Chapter 3

I awoke discombobulated for my thoughts were scattered into fragments, it took literally minutes to develop, process and piece together of what had happened. Yes, I remember it, somewhat. The returning memories still vibrant: the room, the awkward portal, the argument and then, nothing. I let out a disappointed sigh at the failure of recalling anything. I looked around to see if something, if anything could trigger any lost memory. For one thing, I noticed the room was clearly not my own. Though, I remember the transportation within my dream could be a plausible reason why nothing is recognizable to me. But surely, it's impossible, being stuck in some silly fantasy world. Taking my top hat off, I sensed a mild discomfort and then a searing pain when I attempted to inspect my head. I felt something uniquely different almost alien attached to my fabricated skull. Horrified, I palpated once again running my fingers around a smooth surface of what it seemed like a large button. My heart had frozen by the frigid grip of disbelief; this was obviously the evil, sadistic works of Amibo, that vile creature. I lightly put on the top hat, avoiding more pain; I was more concerned of how I got here. I soon came upon the conclusion of the dream that occurred to me was actually real since the accompanying pain I encountered in the dream still took effect in the present; it also makes sense why I'm here, even though it's extremely illogical.

I felt a surge of anger well up inside me, knowing that Amibo took full advantage of me, and I foolishly complied with the deal he proposed fully aware that I could die in the process. Yet, he tempted me, threatening my very own life and left me no choice but to join this alliance. I have no current knowledge of what specific assignments and tasks he wanted me to accomplish and he didn't even attempt to tell me any further information but I knew Amibo's main motive was to assassinate the two obstacles, dwindling his chances of successfully ruling over Dreamland. Still, I cannot fathom why possibly would something as ridiculous as a sock could have such significant power in Patchland. I've quickly learned it has the ability to transport it's wielder into different worlds and dimensions, in this case, the world of Dreamland where Kirby originated. Suddenly, I heard a booming knock emerge from the room's door and an unfamiliar voice was requesting me. An odd sound of metallic plates rubbing against another was clearly audible, along with , what it seems like, a sword being taken out of its sheathe. Another knock emerged, more forceful than before followed by a long, slightly irritated sigh.

"Who are you?" I irritably inquired, muttering under my breath trying to recollect my wits. Funny, I asked this simple question, where I should really question the reason why he's at my door wielding a weapon.

"Sir Meta Knight," a baritone male voice accented behind the door. His voice contained a hint of genuine grace and politeness with also a formal approach albeit, he had a sort of Hispanic enriched accent.

"Sir Squashini, I've been sent by Master Amore to inform you that he needs your presence immediately. I'll escort you to your destination at once."

Rather easily convinced, I approached the door, extending my hand to turn the knob and finally reveal the figure behind my door. I was surprised at my actions, opening a door to potential danger so haphazardly. It was almost automatic. My eyes immediately locked on a pair of bright yellow eyes that illuminated behind a fierce circular mask that came accustomed to his dark blue body, which was to, quite circular. Large armored pads lay on his shoulders where artistically designed cursive M's were labeled on each side. A long, flowing dark purple cape stood behind him, making the knight's appearance seem warily mysterious, completed with a white frilly lapel that connected with the cape. He had the odd yarn outline too and I was certainly correct to find him holding an intensely sharp golden sword within his gloved hand. It appeared long compared to the squat blue figure, standing two inches shorter than his weapon. Honestly, it was almost comical but this was no laughing matter since he could be extremely dangerous. I clutched my magic wand precauciously and proceeded to follow.

We started walking an all that was heard was the faint humming of the electricity's current in the lights. Already, I had an urge to start a conversation to stir away the tension but his uninviting appearance made it almost impossible, but somehow my overwhelming curiosity of this "destination" he was escorting me to eventually won over. I formed a couple of questions to ask as we went through the eleventh corridor of this place; it was almost like a maze for each room, I wondered how the knight eventually found his way. I snuck another glace at the shorter being instantly realizing that he had abandoned my side, leaving me in this unfamiliar place. I scanned around me meticulously, wondering how he slipped from my sight with such ease. Suddenly, an ever so recognizable voice protruded at my far left so unexpectingly, it caused me to stop breathing for a split second before exhaling once again. Meta Knight had opened the discussion room doors with an instant greeting from Amibo along with a few other henchmen staring at the strange Halloween themed monster as myself.

"_**Ah, it seems like Squashini has finally arrived! Care to take a seat will you?**_"

Meta Knight almost automatically took a seat and I, ever reluctant to do so, obeyed.

Amibo cleared his throat before he began once again, "_**I warn you, this information exchanged will be discussed only behind these doors and only in this particular room. Any violators will be…well, I'm sure you could figure that out for yourself.**_" He cocked his head and darted his opal eyes at all of us, making sure there was no sort of disagreement.

I shrunk in my chair, as I listened to his lecture, rather disturbed. As being an experienced show performer, I should happen to know how to improvise and adjust to situations, well, mostly. There was no possible way that I could adjust to _**this**_ alien environment, even though there were bright colors everywhere, promoting optimism, it just didn't feel like a homely atmosphere, especially with these strange beings amongst me but I knew I belonged here, I knew we all had a personal purpose why we even joined. I couldn't help the daunting memory at came across my conscious once again. The blood, the gruesome sight of the innocent woman's organs sprawled about the stage, the horrified screams, the overwhelming humiliation; it was all too much to bring up right now. I felt sick. I wanted to avert my thoughts to keep myself from truly losing it in front of everybody. I shifted in my chair uncomfortably and decided to peer over at the peaceful, well composed, Meta Knight for relief. He was listening very intently, jotting down information. It was then, that he glanced up at Amibo who called him to attention.

"_**You there, Star Warrior**_," all eyes shifted to finally land on the blue knight.

"_Sir?_" Meta Knight responded firmly, fully attentive to the yarn sorcerer. His eyes flashed a crude crimson for a moment before returning to his original eye color. He looked shaken, troubled or something might have gotten a hold of him but I couldn't accurately indicate his dissembled emotions behind the mask.

"_**Since you are rather experience in battle, and it seems that you obtain the fruitful ability to wield the sword of the galaxy, I assign you specifically, to guard the enchanted yarn of SpaceLand. I also lend you, with the support of my magic of course, four more powerful swords to make sure no living soul has a chance to challenge me**_." His voice was even more ominous than before, making one of the henchmen, an engorged light blue penguin, shudder.

The knight clinched his sword powerfully, as if he was receiving a great source of power before he was transported to his destination by the sorcerer's magic. The red gleam in his eyes grew a brighter fiery red before disappearing into thin air. It was quite a menacing sight.

"_**That went well as predicted**_," stated Amibo, self-assuringly feeling accomplished by his magic. He then fixed his eyes on the now frightened penguin who wore red and white royal attire. The piercing stare of the yarn sorcerer made him cower even more into his chair, obviously, too afraid to enter that awkward transportation. The sorcerer saw this and simply chuckled, gracefully levitating towards him and placed his utensils playfully on his shoulders, harassing the petrified bird. Immediately upon contact, the penguin sputtered about explosively, trying to escape from the clutches of the two fiendish utensils but was abruptly stopped by the towering source of evil before him.

"Hey-a, get dose things offa me!" the staggering being cried, only receiving a toothy grin from the tormentor.

"_**Oh, it seems like King Dedede, suppossively the ruler of DreamLand, is evidentially nothing but a huge coward. Tsk, what a pity that DreamLand doesn't require such an adequate ruler to rightfully guide his own 'sheep'.**_" A few henchmen, influenced by Amibo's cruel, manipulative humor laughed, some simply observing, and others, a bit perplexed by Amibo's actions he awkwardly began to weave his utensils into Dedede's robe, wrapping himself around his body, gripping him once again and appearing as if he was an extensive cape attached to his robe. He began to whisper some sort of complex spell incantation in the king's ear. Dedede's expression was now off and vacant until his features gradually molded into a livid, sinister smirk. His eyes than began to loom a familiar crimson. I soon caught myself staring intently into those hypnotic ruby eyes, I shielded my eyes as it was extremely difficult to look away. But unfortunately, I was to slow as I felt power pulse through my body, neither of my nerves was overlooked and reflexingly, my muscles contracted, making me quaver. I fell, completely drained, his magic had stolen most of my energy; my head, collided with the amble wooden desk. I simply feel asleep.

It wasn't long before I gained my conscious. A distant sound I recognized to be of an impatient tapping of a hard surface had woke me up. I struggled to open my eyes that ached at the oncoming light. I saw nothing but a blur, as my eyes tried to automatically adjust the distorted picture.

"_**I can't believe you actually fell asleep in such an important meeting. Really, now, am I that boring to you, hm, Squashini? Do you need some sort of entertainment?**_" Amibo said, stressing each word with agitation.

I was too disoriented to respond. I was just now noticing there was no other being in the room but the two of us. A sudden tug was felt on my bowtie and then finally a strong pull shifted me forward, immediately forcing my full intention. My eyes widened by the sudden shift of my body as I was held in a stern grasp. It was then, I decided to finally speak up, and shaken by the sudden movement and the look of anguish in Amibo's eyes. I observed what he had done to the previous person. Evadingly, I had finally submitted.

"I-I'm sorry, Master Amore," I chocked out. "I apologize for- for my indolence." I couldn't believe want I was saying, submitting to that evil delinquent!" He loosened his grip, slightly, looking at me questionably. I'm sure someone even as 'omniscient' as him, wasn't expecting me to suddenly give in like this.

"_**Oh, ho, ho what is this? You finally abide by my rules and call me your master? Oh, this is simply amazing!**_" he smirked, while fixing my tie into an extremely tight knot, compensating for his rudeness.

He took my top hat off and placed it on the table, revealing the large button that was attached to my fabricated head. The sudden cool sensation of my now exposed button made me cringe, I had an impulse to put my hat back on immediately but my hand was pushed away, giving an admonished look from Amibo. I did what I thought I was told and kept quiet and let Amibo do what he had in mind. I flinched when he started to inspect his own insidious creation. The button was incrediblely sensitive to touch. I again retrained myself from inflicting a punch to his face for him, palpating the fragile button, was highly irritating. He began to knit slowly at the button, aiming to fix any errors, not focusing on the pain he was inflicting on me.

"_**You took quite a stumble last night, don't you think? I'm really starting to get the impression that you're fairly weak why, you practically fell right into the floor like a scared, feeble animal.**_" He taunted finishing his task, sadistically, watching me flinch and recoil at the pain he produced. I hated him severely, though for some odd reason, I felt obligated to serve him in a way. I wasn't exactly sure. I gave up on talking back because it was useless and it wasn't exactly going anywhere. It'll just make things more complicated and it won't benefit me at all. Still, I being rebellious wouldn't allow him to call me a weakling so easily.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Master Amore, I-I'm no pathetic weakling." I chocked out as I fought his potent spell that tried to omit any opposing retorts of mine. I briskly grabbed my hat from the table to cover the button once again, narrowing my eyes at the villain, still a bit dazed by the prior pain.

"_**So, I'm assuming you want to challenge me after you chose to fully obey me? Very hypocritical if you ask me; but I always love a challenge, Squashini, especially one who has a paranormal ability like I.**_" He whirled, flaunting his poncho around, almost as if he was performing some foreign ceremonial ritual.

Walls and tiles began to melt from their borders, ridding every single detail of the room into darkness, the table gone, the floor disappearing from under me, revealing nothing but a pitch black. I was baffled momentarily as I thought I would fall into a never ending abyss; thankfully, I had the ability to levitate. The room was unrecognizable now, its bright colors and supporting floor replaced by swaying, almost moving in a circular motion, dark color; the floor, replaced by random textile platforms. My eyes were fixed on Amibo Amore and my expression towards him never changed with the haunting transformation of a completely normal room into some yarned hell.

"_**Challenge me, fool."**_ He growled hungrily, anticipating on my first move.

I clutched my wand, ready to make the first attack and trying to think of a spell to cast to effectively damage him. I remembered one of my powerful hexes I once read from one of the black magic books I possessed in my library, luckily, I knew the appropriate chant:

"_Damnaret__hoste__nocuit__mihi__fas__sit super eum__manus__Quatuor__decem__doloribus__destinatum__visitaverit__me__super__REUS__…__"_

A bolting force of fire shot out of my wand, the powerful spell almost pushing me back, my hands quavering violently. I wasn't used to it for, hadn't used this dark spell in years, because surely, this black magic wasn't allowed on my planet. I knew, I would be looked down upon and viewed as some sort of psychotic wannabe wizard. But, I knew in this world, I actually had a chance to finally experiment my knowledge on magic.

The stream of fire engulfed the sorcerer, incinerating him upon contact. I could hear a stressed grunt from Amibo, indicating that I had damaged him somehow, but the ball of ember soon ceased once he had extinguished it almost effortlessly with a swift lash of his knitting needle. Patches of burns were evident on his poncho and steam was rising from his body. He was shaking from pure rage and his toothy grin was no more. I chuckled at the sight of this, knowing that I had him while scolding him for underestimating me also.

"Looks like you can't withstand my first-degree burns, Amore, you might as well quit." I willfully mocked, tipping my hat, grinning with my twisted jack-o-lantern smirk.

"_**I wouldn't call that pathetic stunt, a challenge**_," Amibo nonchalantly stated, brushing off the remaining ashes. "_**You haven't even seen the capabilities I have in store for you, you imbecile.**_"

He quickly began to knit a covering textile at such an exhilarating speed, I couldn't tell where he exactly was. The cover then dropped over me, preventing me from seeing anything. The material was so heavy, I couldn't remove it off of me either.

"_**NYA, HA HA HA HA HA HA!**_ _**Try and dodge this!" **_

Suddenly, I heard a sound of zipping fabric coming closer and was approaching rapidly. I didn't know what to dodge to avoid getting hit. It was then, I felt two dozen or so sharp objects penetrate my body: the most unpleasant pain I've ever felt. I screamed and writhed at the horrifying ache. It lasted almost forever until the cover finally revealed some light. I groaned as my body went num, not at the least expecting him to use needles in battle.

"_**You look marvelous in that pose, I'd say, those needles look dashing in you." **_He said with his sadistic charm.

I did what I could to rid the needles from my body no matter how painful it was but there was no chance in hell I was going to pull these out one by one, time was of the essence and he could attack at any moment. I cast a spell on myself to make my body translucent, letting all the needles in me fall onto the platform. I grunted, feeling all the needles leave my punctured body simultaneously. I felt my energy melting away; I knew if I didn't hurry and defeat him, he would kill me easily. I stood up, my translucent spell wearing off, casting another powerful spell upon my foe. I knew this one would finish him off for sure or damage him immensely.

I wanted to show him what I, Squashini, was capable of…


	4. Chapter 4

Why me?

My eyes…my eyes were like daggers wanting to unmercifully penetrate right through that wicked mess of fabric, who was quite overzealous of the last counter attack he demonstrated. Extremely irritated, I literally wanted to manually disassemble him yarn by yarn until he was nothing but a clutter of useless material. I was shaken with fury, as I almost anticipated on finally hearing the strident sound of his screaming, instantly declaring my victory and obviously clarifying his permanent lost. But, I simply couldn't let my apparent anguish consume my thoughts while I'm attempting to formulate yet another spell to damage him significantly.

I need to act and think swiftly…

I glanced and meticulously started to browse any infirmities on Amibo to finally gain some sort of advantage, but no matter how hard I searched, the results were always the same. I felt completely lost in such a dire predicament. I fixed my hat in entire frustration, allowing the feeling of defeat beginning to overcoming my emotions but miraculously within the rapidly shortening time frame, I discovered the material of the hat he wore mainly consisted of linen, a highly flammable material…the same material I was now enlaced in-giving my very existence. Oh, how can I be so absentminded? It actually appeared to be perfectly sown into the yarn that bonded his features together. I would assume it would be quite a struggle removing it from the quickening spread of a flame. I smirked, knowing that I could finally process a spell that would match my flawless plan.

I lashed my enchanted wand, accurately aiming at the sorcerer, letting the magic unleash, uncontrollably, a fury of blue ember. I…I actually didn't recall myself even emitting the spell… the force of energy was too imaginary- yet, too lucid. I couldn't have felt more alive as the raging trail of ember consumed Amibo's hat. He immediately screamed and writhed under the siring heat of the cerulean flame I emitted. I too could feel that heat radiating from the wand; unfortunately, causing me to feel the stinging sensation of the immense heat. At first, the sensation was a little tolerable, but it rapidly became too much to withstand- it was too overwhelming! It took almost all of me to not let go, I mean, every single inflamed nerve fiber that was responding, sending senses to my brain telling me to let go, was being grudgingly ignored, so I wouldn't abruptly stop the spell altogether, giving Amibo an opportunity to recover. I, absolutely, refused to take that risk.

Trembling under the utter, hellish pain, I opened my mouth to let out the strenuous cry stored within my lungs but another cry intervened, keeping my suffering yelps from ever resonating. Of course, it was Amibo, his whole sombrero clearly gone, and the flames still slowly eating away at his face. He was sure to be dead, and I was fully sure I had successfully defeated a skilled sorcerer. I actually had had some doubts, since I haven't studied much enchanted works in a long period of time, and I'd never thought that I would use its power in a caustic way. The feeling of rejoice and relief began to well inside me, but that was soon flushed as I noticed the flaw of my pueso-accomplishment manifesting before my eyes, for there was a slight movement of my opponent.

He was alive. How? That immense amount of heat completely depreciated the linen that made his body! How can he possibly be alive? The two utensils he limply held weakly started to sow and weave the damaged material, almost as if the utensils had a mind of their own. They had skillfully avoided the dimming flamlets to prevent themselves from catching on fire. An eerie, chilling gust of wind extinguished the last bit of it. As the cold front moved throughout the area, the walls, borders, and floor had shifted to their natural places, but we were no longer in the press room- no, it was an area totally foreign, totally unreal.

The platforms sank into the new, now edible ground that consisted of gram crackers and other treats of the sort as if it were a liquid surface that eventually vaporized. The dark, deathly atmosphere that once blanketed the sky melted away and transformed into a radiant rosy plain the extended for what it seems like eternity. The vicissty was happening all so rapidly. My intentions were still focused on Amibo, still unconvinced of the peaceful tranquility that my surroundings expressed. My eyes scanned around feverishly trying to see if Amibo had any trickery in store for me. Strangely, nothing… It was then I caught the sight of a now recomposed Amibo who now stood a reasonable distance apart from me, his piercing gaze matching mine and his expression surprisingly unreadable, considering the amount of damage he encountered. I was quick to back away, presuming another vital spell and ready to avoid any of his needle projectiles. But, contrary to my expectations, there was not a swift motion of his magic knitting tools or any act of retaliation of the matter; he just continued to levitate before me, staring me down with his austere stance which perplexed me entirely. I couldn't believe it… I couldn't believe that this man, previously engulfed in flames, was still…here, alive. I wanted to barrage him with my morbid thoughts that resented his existence and how eagerly I wanted him to die…but these words forming within my throat never accented. Knowing nothing of his intentions, had quipped me even more. Why isn't there thrashing of enchantments being exchanged? Is this staring nonsense supposed to be some sort of mockery? There was nothing but the naturalistic sounds and echoes of various birds that twittered, distorting the odd silence. After another few tenuous moments, Amibo decided to finally brisk away the silence.

"Though…I'm reluctant to admit, you have a great power," Amibo growled as he twitched his yarned mustache in vexation, most likely damning himself before continuing again but with a noticeable calmer tone. "However, the mission is in session… I've wasted valuable time playing spell-bound games with you- Prince Fluff and his 'friend' had killed off my first henchmen!", the sorcerer, in pure frustration, stamped the pointed end of his weapon on the ground, causing a few crackers to crumble to pieces.

I, still numb of the change of events, finally uttered a single inquiry, "If you never wanted to waste your precious time, then, why didn't you just control me-like the others who are also marionettes of your nefarious magic?" I really was mortified to ask the question, suspicious it might prompt an idea for the beguiler.

Putting one of his hands to his mouth, trying to cover up his toothy, malicious smile, Amibo gave a deep, muffled chortle in response. "Once my spell has fully captivated my host, they are no longer aware or conscious-almost as if my magic creates a completely different creature inside the host, negating the host's existence…" I began to grow a little sick as he further explained; he continued, his voice growing, as well as his interest in his own insidious works. "Their body is now merely an empty shell; usually, most of them never return once their body- their soul has been occupied." Suddenly, a vertex of colors frantically appeared behind him, preparing an exit. "This is another dimension, Squashini. My race-", the two utensils stopped momentarily to face each other and nodded in unison and continued in unison, a nuance in their voices now apparent, "Our race has the innate ability to shift and navigate through dimensions in order to incarcerate and enslave a hapless species, ultimately, deeming our race superior and finally, promoting our statuses on our planet.", they hissed happily and made their way into the vortex.

My eyes widened at their sudden evading; I reached out my hand like a helpless tot that lost its mother, its main source of nurture, information, guidance. "You still didn't answer my question!" my voice obviously quivering-growing weak, feeling helpless. "Why me…?"

The alien like creatures glanced back and gave a pestilent hiss at their main annoyance. "We only want to see you fail and die of the impending, agonizingly slow death that will soon come once we successfully rid the planet of its resources." The duo aliens snickered at each other, eyes glowing red. "Your existence here will be no more…well, at least…here." Sweat began to bead on my head, and my hands became clammy. What in the hell was that supposed to mean? I won't exist…here? You can die multiple times? Before I vocalized any other questions, the vortex disappeared, the foreign creatures gone with it and leaving me to waste away on this soon to be annihilated planet. I slammed my fists on the floor, again, the cracker floor crumpling into pieces. Damn those aliens, and damn their ambiguity. I can't do anything now, but I can't just sit here idle until my death. There must be some way to- to get out.

I laugh to myself- bouts of laughter lasting almost an hour or so, insanity gripping my being. I really couldn't believe it; this can't be true. It was all too surreal, too lucid…

I looked to the sky, only to see the beginning of twilight in the horizon, riddling its way into the night.


End file.
